Fade To Black
by Violet Beatrice Baudelaire
Summary: SLASH. Lucas is unhappy with his life at school and at home.One night, he wanders to a place he knows he should not have gone. When Lucas gets attacked by a stranger, he does not think anyone will help him but Michael saves him... Michael Myers x Male OC
1. What's Life Like Bleeding On The Floor?

Fade To Black

**A/N: So I don't know where this came from. It's been so long since I watched Halloween, and that was the old version. I barely remember what happened. I had to check the synopsis on Wiki. Anyway, sorry if Michael comes off as too OOC here. And I don't know, it's a bit odd. I just went with the flow and this is what came out. Well, I still hope you enjoy reading this chapter :)**

**DISCLAIMER: Michael Myers is most definitely not mine, neither are the movies he features in.**

**WARNINGS: Mild horror/violence. Brief mention of morbid/depressing thoughts. Death of a minor character. A little swearing. I think that's it. **

_What's life like bleeding on the floor? – Thank You For The Venom: My Chemical Romance_

The sky had slowly turned dark as night fell over the town of Haddonfield. Rain was falling, a drizzle which was quickly turning into a downpour. Lucas was running down an alleyway. He was being chased by a tall man with greasy blond hair who was yelling at him to stop. The teenager wished he had just stayed at home but he hated being there. It was almost as bad as school. He could not help being gay, it was just natural to him but the jocks did not care about that. No, they just liked to see him suffer. Lucas was sick of it. The continuous beatings. The cruel insults. Having his locker and personal items defaced. School was a living nightmate. The teenager liked being outside at night, because it was the only time he felt free. Wandering into the rough part of town had been a big mistake however. Lucas never went there usually; it only had bars that were dives and seedy shops, along with housing that was mostly abandoned. The people who hung out there were mostly creeps, junkies, and drunkards. He knew it was better to just keep clear of the area, but he had been so upset tonight that he had not paid much attention to his surroundings. Lucas was paying for it now though. The stranger he was running from had talked to him, but he had decided to ignore the man. The teenager had figured the man would lose interest. He had been wrong. Instead, the man had started to follow him and had also become angry at being ignored. So Lucas had run, run as fast as he could, hoping to get away. He had no idea what the man wanted, but he knew it would not be anything good.

When he reached the end of the alley his heart sunk. It was a dead end. There was a wall blocking his path, and it was too high to climb over. By now he was drenched in rain, his t-shirt clinging to him like a second skin and his dark hair plastered to his pale face. His soft brown eyes were showing apprehension as he slowly turned to face the stranger. The man was smiling, his light blue eyes glinting meanly as he surveyed the worried teenage boy standing in front of him.

"Please..." Lucas pleaded. "I don't have much money but you can have it. Take it all, I don't care"

The man leered as he shoved the dark haired boy backwards. "It's not money I want, pretty boy" He was close enough now that Lucas could notice the stench that lingered on him – an unpleasant mixture of body odour, cheap whisky and stale cigarette smoke.

_No_. _No_. Not **that**. Lucas felt sick to his stomach as he realized what the man wanted. He looked around wildly, hoping someone would see and come to help him – but he knew nobody would. He was all alone.

"Now just take it easy" The man brushed a dirty looking thumb over Lucas's lower lip. "If you take real good care of me then maybe I won't hurt you too bad. What's your name?"

Lucas stayed silent for a few moments, and then reluctantly answered the man's question. "Lucas..."

"I hope you're telling me the truth there pretty boy. Because I hate liars" He pulled out a switchblade and a low laugh emerged, resonating deep from within him. "This is gonna be fun"

"Please, don't do this" Lucas begged. "Just walk away. I'm not gonna tell anyone about this, I swear"

The man slammed him back into the wall, his arm pressed heavily against Lucas's throat. "Shut the fuck up" The man growled.

Lucas saw white spots pass in front of his eyes. Pain exploded in the back of his head with the force which he had hit the wall. He was dizzy and close to passing out as he desperately grabbed hold of the man's arm, trying to move it so he could get some much needed air into his lungs. Lucas kicked and struggled to get away but his efforts were feeble. Even if he had not been in his weakened state, the lean frame of his body still would have lost against the man's solid build. In his heart he knew it was hopeless. Then suddenly the man let out an odd sound, stumbling back. Lucas slid down the wall to the ground and coughed, taking in as much air as he could with deep breaths. The man had dropped to his knees, staring down in shock at the bloodstain rapidly forming on his grimy white tee from a wound in his side where the handle of a knife was protruding. A masked figure in a simple blue coverall crouched by the man and wrapped a hand around the handle of the knife, before yanking the knife out. The man yelped, and it looked like he was going to say something but before he could say anything, the masked man had deftly slit his throat, a crimson flow of blood spilling out from his slashed jugular vein.

There was a dead body lying in front of Lucas. He was terrified, sure he would be next to die. He wondered if anyone would even miss him. Lucas knew he should at least _try_ to run, but he sat there frozen in horror at what he had seen. The white mask was hiding the face of a deranged psychopath. Michael Myers, who had been all over the news for the past few days, having recently escaped from the psychiatric hospital in Smith's Grove. It was hard to believe Michael was only a few years older than him. Lucas could not control the trembling that started as Michael stood up and advanced upon him, carelessly dropping the knife onto the ground. Lucas was not sure if that was good or bad. So perhaps he was not going to get stabbed to death, but then how would Michael kill him? Did he have another weapon hidden somewhere? Or maybe he would simply use his brute strength. Lucas squeezed his eyes shut tight as Michael leant over him. He did not want to die but if he had to he would prefer it to be quick. And maybe it was for the best. Was his life worth living? Perhaps in death he could find peace.

Michael grabbed hold of Lucas and pulled him up onto his feet. Then he hoisted the teenage boy up over his shoulder, with as little effort as if Lucas had weighed no more than a sack of feathers. Lucas opened his eyes again, getting a slanted view of the world as Michael strode onwards. Lucas wondered where he was being taken as he clung onto the surprisingly soft material of Michael's coveralls and pressed his face against Michael's broad shoulder. .It was not because he was scared of falling, he actually felt secure. Michael would not let him fall. He was being carried around by a killer, but yet somehow a part of him felt safe. It was wrong, so _wrong_. Lucas knew the thoughts he were having were not right, it was like his senses had gone haywire. His mind was not screaming danger, it was whispering quietly. Still...Michael had protected him from his attacker. Even if he had not done it intentionally, Michael had saved Lucas. So for that at least, Lucas could not help but be thankful. And he was still alive. He did not know why, but he was. That had to mean something, although he could not figure out what it meant yet. Michael had been walking for a long time, and when he finally set Lucas back down onto the ground, the dark haired boy had no idea where he was. They were standing by the back of a car. Taking a set of keys from a hidden pocket in his coverall, Michael opened the trunk. He pointed at Lucas, and then pointed at the trunk, before pushing the teenager forward. Lucas did not want to go in there, but he did not think he had a choice. If he refused, Michael would probably just make him do it anyway. So he climbed in, curling up to fit in the cramped space as the lid was shut. He hated it, and prayed that the journey would not be a long one as he felt the car's engine rumble to life as Michael started the ignition.

**Thank you for reading :) If you've got a moment to spare please leave a review, I'd really appreciate it. I don't know when the next chapter will come, because I got to this point in the story and then my mind went blank. I intended for this to be a oneshot, but I can't leave it here so there will be probably be one or two more chapters before the end.**


	2. Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter Two

**A/N: Okay. I'm sorry it's short, and nothing much happens. Also I'm sorry it took a while to get it done, and I have no idea when the next chapter will be written. I suck, I know :( Anyway, I still hope you enjoy reading it :)**

**DISCLAIMER: Michael Myers is most definitely not mine, neither are the movies he features in.**

**Thank you to the lovely people who reviewed the last chapter: **

**MashuruD, Wylrin , Dorianimeyaoilover , Little Ghost Girl and BvBArmyWillStayStronge**

**Also a big thank you to the people who favorited the story and put the story on alert.**

_Where do we go from here? – Trigger: The Rasmus_

It had been a smooth ride for a while until the road they were travelling on became bumpy. Lucas was getting jostled around inside the trunk and he was fighting to keep nausea at bay. Whether it was from the car ride or because of what he had witnessed. It could not have been have been more than an hour that he was stuck in the dense darkness of the trunk but to Lucas it felt like forever. When the car stopped and finally the trunk was popped open, Lucas scrambled to get out as quickly as he could. His legs felt cramped and as he stood on his feet again he stumbled a little before steadying himself. Michael just stood there silently, watching him. Lucas averted his gaze, instead looking around. They were in the middle of nowhere. There was a little ramshackle cabin a short distance away. Near to it was an outhouse. It had to be somewhere out of town, on the outskirts at least. The ground was dry and dusty, the soil baked over time by the heat of the sun. Wild grass was sprouting in threadbare patches.

"Where are we?" Lucas asked. Michael said nothing, just grabbed the teenage boy by his arm and started pulling him in the direction of the cabin. Lucas had to follow, it was either that or be dragged along and he much preferred to walk. When they got up onto the porch Michael grabbed hold of the door handle and wrenched down on it. All he succeeded in doing was making the door handle break off. He tossed it to one side and then stepped back a few steps before slamming the sole of his black boot against the door, which shuddered but the lock held firm. Michael kicked the door again, and Lucas was almost certain he heard a growl coming from the masked killer as his attempt to open the door was thwarted yet again. Michael strolled around the side of the cabin and Lucas followed a few steps behind, curious to see what Michael would do next but not wanting to get too close to him. By the time Lucas had turned the corner he saw Michael had a rock in his hand and it was not long before the rock was thrown, creating a sizable hole in a single pane window and sending pieces of glass raining down onto the ground. Michael cleared the rest of the glass still clinging to the window frame using his bare hand. He sustained a few scratches and a deeper cut on the palm of his hand, but he ignored it. Michael's gaze travelled from the window over to Lucas before he beckoned for the teenager to come forward.

Lucas sighed and without being prompted made his way into the cabin via the broken window. He just barely managed to get in, the window was small. There was no way Michael would be able to fit in there. Still, Michael would find a way in. Lucas knew that. For the moment though, he was alone and he studied his surroundings. The air in the cabin was stale and smelt musty. There was a thin layer of dust that had settled on practically everything in sight. The floor was bare apart from a rug which could have been a deep red when it was new, but now it was a murky brownish red color. There was a single makeshift bed pushed into a corner of the room, an old mattress covered with a dingy off white sheet and a faded blue comforter. There were a few cupboards lining one wall over a small counter and a propane stove. A small sink was there too, and when Lucas turned the faucet on, the pipes sputtered before a few drops of water came out. Lucas waited but no more water came. Seeing as how the cabin seemed to be abandoned, he had not really expected to find a working water supply but he thought that he might as well try. He peered into all of the cupboards but all he found was some old tins and a packet of stale trail mix. It had not taken long to explore the cabin, but as he had done so he found himself starting to get tired. And the time kept passing, slowly but surely. Was Michael still lingering around outside? What else could he be doing? Lucas was not even sure what the time was, but he knew it was late. Maybe past midnight. He had been through a lot, and his tiredness was starting to catch up to him. Lucas did not like the idea of sleeping on the mattress but it was better than the floor at least. So he shook the dust off the sheet, and then spread it on the mattress again. He sat down on the makeshift bed until he was too tired to sit up anymore. Just as he was settling into sleep he heard a knock.

There was only one door, the door that led into the cabin. Another knock came, this one louder. Lucas went over to the door. There was a simple but sturdy lock. A rusty key was hanging near the door from a rusty nail. Simple enough. All he had to do was pick up the key, insert it into the lock and turn it. As he was in the midst of unlocking the door, he hesitated. For a few moments he toyed with the idea of not letting Michael in, but what would he really achieve with that? Nothing. Michael would still find a way inside, and then he might be mad at Lucas. Besides, if all he was planning was to keep Lucas held hostage then why should that be a bad thing? He might be safer with Michael than he was at home. If he had been at home right now, he would probably have gotten into another fight with his stepdad. And he would have lost, like he always did. And even if it turned out that Michael had darker plans for him, at least he would not have to go back home. He was still afraid of what might happen to him, but his fear was balanced by his hope that somehow everything could turn out alright. Michael was a monster, but he had not always been one. And perhaps a part of him was still good. Or maybe Lucas was deluding himself. He opened the door wide.

Michael was there, holding a duffle bag, which he held out to Lucas. "That's... for me?" As usual, he was met with silence but he did see Michael nod. Well. That was progress. A small amount of progress, but it was some form of acknowledgement. "Thanks, I guess. I mean, I-I do appreciate it-" Lucas stopped talking when Michael slammed the door shut and just stood inside, staring at him. Lucas got nervous and retreated over to the makeshift bed, making a big show of rifling through the bag so he did not have to look in Michael's direction. There was a few bags of chips, a packet of peanuts and two bottles of mineral water. Michael had probably stolen the snacks and the drinks, but it was trivial considering all the other crimes he had committed. There were clothes too, and as Lucas looked more closely he was surprised when he realized the clothes were actually his own. And at the bottom of the bag was an old photo of Lucas and his mom. A photo he kept hidden safely in his room. Lucas's stepdad had destroyed all the other photos of his mom in a drunken rage not long after she had passed away.

"How do you know where I live?" Lucas asked, his curiosity overtaking his fear. "Did you...follow me? Is that what you did?"

"Yes, I did follow you" Michael replied. His voice sounded hoarse and was deeper than Lucas had expected. Michael had been silent for so long and now he was breaking his silence, after years of playing mute. "And I thought you would be like the others. Except you're not like them at all"

Lucas half smiled, looking straight up at Michael. "So you do talk..." He knew he should be worried about the fact that Michael had followed him .It was strange, but Lucas found that he did not care about it as much as he thought he should.

**Thanks for reading :) **


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